The Story:

The cicadas were roaring in the background of the blazing summer afternoon when I parked the car outside the domaine to find Bernard ready to greet me.

“It’s so noisy,” I said, as I got out to greet him.

“That is not noise,” he replied. “That is a song of nature.”

And the whole natural habitat is crucial to Bernard’s vision. The domaine has thirty hectares of land, but they only plant wines on six of them. For the others, they have some woods, they have fields lying fallow; he even referred to a few cows over the hill, though I didn’t see them; but preserving the biodiversity of the land is vital for him. When I asked him if his wines were classified as Côtes de Thongue or AOP, he replied that he didn’t care about that:

“There are wines that are biodynamic; there are wines that are not biodynamic. The rest is just politics.”

(For the record, his wines are a mixture of Vin de Pays de l’Herault and Vin de France.)

Rather, though, his is a vision of living in a manner integrated with the natural world, not dominating or controlling it.

“There are even people in the plains who water their vines. That is just madness.”

From Beziers originally, he lived for some years in Corsica, making ceramics, before in 2004 he had the idea of returning to Languedoc to make wine. He is proudly from the south and he has the grapes to prove it. Forty years ago, most Languedoc winemakers tore up their old terret grapes, preferring more aromatic international varieties; but here at Cadables, terret is the lead grape of their white wine (Price Band B), offering a grassy, somewhat angular alternative to most whites in the area. ‘Terret is the grape that was,” he says elliptically, “But here, I still grow it.” Indeed, he is planting more terret vines.

His rosé is also atypical. Deliberating eschewing the trend for light pink in the style of Provence, his is a rosé with genuine body, made from mourvedre, syrah, grenache and cinsault (Price Band B). It’s excellent, but for food, rather than for knocking back in the evening.

The name of the main red somewhat sums him up, “Chemin a l’envers” (Price Band B) – “the path that’s inside out/ opposite” – or, as I put it to him, ‘The road less travelled’. We discussed Robert Frost’s poem and he said,

“That’s it. If you choose a life that’s a bit more difficult, it’s more interesting.”

For the wine itself, it’s lovely but almost bitter; black olive flavours outweigh the fruit. The vines are planted on soil with volcanic rocks in it.

Then on to his ‘Terre Promise’ (Price Band C), a mourvedre-led red from volcanic terroir. It’s dense, almost black and while the nose gives off blackcurrant, the palate itself is tough and tannic. Somewhat proudly, he proclaims again; “It’s completely atypical.”

Finally, there’s his Chemin de Pierres (Price Band C), a carignan-led wine, which is much easier; not without tannin, but very much more awareness of the grapes behind the wine.

His wines have something of a rugged grandeur, and they reflect the man. I don’t think he particularly wants short term success. He is happy to defy modern trends and live in harmony with his land, preserving the cultivation of wines in harmony with nature.

“And then, you see,” he remarks, gesturing to what is behind him, “round here, we live in a paradise.” As he relaxes on the sofa on the roof terrace, you get his point.

From experience of drinking wines from this domaine over several years, more than almost any other Cotes de Thongue producer, his red wines need time. The mourvedre that was fierce in years one to three resolves into something beautifully harmonious after five or so years in bottle. You don’t have to wait forever, but you’ll certainly benefit from giving them a few years, if you have somewhere to store them.

If you want to read more, and can read French, Bernard writes a blog about the life of a vigneron: http://domaine-de-cadables.over-blog.fr.